


The CEO Trap

by sierra_roe



Series: Bream on BDSM [3]
Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Caper Fic, Crack Crossover, Fetlife, Gen, Heist, Humiliation, Humor, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, Multi, Power Dynamics, a self-indulgent excuse to write a heist plot crossed with a sexual humiliation scene, it's basically an episode of the show, just much dirtier, lowkey martin starr self-cest (implied), this author enjoys plot twists and seeing richard humiliated by gavin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25229392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sierra_roe/pseuds/sierra_roe
Summary: After stumbling on Gavin Belson’s dick pics on the internet, the gang comes up with a scheme to discredit him by publicly exposing his kinky personal life.A little cracky, a little dirty, and hopefully a little funny.
Relationships: Gavin Belson/Richard Hendricks, Gilfoyle/Tara/Roman (Party Down)
Series: Bream on BDSM [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630285
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	The CEO Trap

**Author's Note:**

> You ever just get a ridiculous idea in your head and you have to write it? Well that's what happened here. This piece has the dubious distinction of being the longest thing I’ve written in my entire life. Hope you enjoy!

“Now that we’ve all been to Folsom together, I guess I don’t care if you guys see me looking at Fetlife.” Gilfoyle says, sitting down with a bowl of cereal at his desk in the incubator living room and immediately logging into his Fetlife account.

“What’s Fetlife?” Dinesh asks from his computer.

Gilfoyle continues eating while he decides if he should be annoyed by answering a basic question, or smug about knowing something that Dinesh doesn’t, then swallows and finally responds, “A social network for kinky people.”

Dinesh looks over his shoulder, “I don’t get it… so people just post pictures of themselves on this site… naked? Why?”

“I don’t know, maybe to stave off the inevitability of death? Why does anyone do anything?”

Richard interrupts, “Can’t you guys go look at that site somewhere else? Some of us are trying to work around here.” He sneaks a couple glances in the direction of Gilfoyle’s monitor in spite of himself.

The other two ignore him. Dinesh looks at the site in amazement. “Wow… so many dick pics. Why are there so many dick pics on here?”

“Good work identifying that dick pic. It’s definitely _not_ a hot dog.”

“Is this a hostile work environment? Why don’t we have HR yet, Richard?” Dinesh pauses as something occurs to him, “Wait, Gilfoyle… does that mean that you post pictures of _your_ penis on here?”

“Please. Dick pics are the lowest form of Fetlife imagery.” Gilfoyle clicks on his own profile. All his photos are unfunny memes about either BDSM or chess. “My personal opsec policy states that I don’t post photos of myself online, anywhere. Of any body parts. Facial recognition is already out there, who knows when penile recognition is coming.”

“LaVeyan_Sadist42: Sapiosexual anarcho-capitalist…” Dinesh starts to read Gilfoyle’s profile, but Gilfoyle quickly closes the tab.

“Don’t read that, it’ll only confuse you. My sexuality is multitudinous and too complex for your tiny mind to comprehend.”

“This site is weeeird….” Dinesh says, with eyes wide, “You people are weird.”

“That’s racist,” says Gilfoyle.

“Let’s look at more,” says Dinesh.

They start looking through more nearby Palo Alto profiles until Jared passes through the living room, carrying groceries. He stops and blurts out, “Gilfoyle! What is a picture of Gavin Belson’s penis doing on your computer?”

In unison, Dinesh, Gilfoyle and Richard all turn to stare at him.

“Jared…” says Dinesh.

“How do you know what Gavin Belson’s dick looks like?” Gilfoyle finishes.

An expression somewhere between guilt and embarrassment passes over Jared’s face. “With all due respect, I’m not sure that anyone in this room really wants to know the answer to that question.”

“This guy fucks,” Richard says, shaking his head with a smile.

Gilfoyle turns back to Fetlife. “Interesting. So Fetlife user PrimalBuddhist is Gavin Belson. Let’s see what kinds of weird shit he’s into.” He shoots a look Jared’s way. “Unless you’d like to tell us yourself, Jared.”

“Oh… no thank you. A gentleman never kisses and tells.” Jared walks into the kitchen to put away the groceries.

“You guys, this is really an invasion of privacy,” Richard says, but he joins Dinesh in crowding around Gilfoyle’s monitor.

“This is just the consequence of having a weak personal opsec policy. Take it as a cautionary tale.” Gilfoyle says.

“I guess we don’t need automated dick identification when we’ve got Jared.” Dinesh adds.

Gavin’s profile lists his role as “Primal” and his orientation as heteroflexible.

“Heteroflexible. Looks like our boy likes a little dick on the side,” says Gilfoyle.

“Heteroflexible? Isn’t that just bisexual? And isn’t bisexual basically gay?” Dinesh says.

“Well, let’s not erase bisexuality,” says Jared from the kitchen, “Sexuality is a spectrum, and it’s completely valid to fall anywhere on the spectrum.”

Gilfoyle reads out loud from the profile:

> _Salutations one and all!_ _I am a discreet professional, in a high position in my field (which is why I can’t post face pictures on here). I practice my art at the intersection of new age spirituality and mindful power exchange. I am a pre-published author of erotic fiction, which you can read more of here on my Fetlife page. When I’m not working or writing, I spend my time relaxing off the grid in Jackson Hole. I follow my instincts at all times, during play as well as work. I have a highly evolved sense of smell and empathy. Although my spiritual practice of Buddhism has made me exceedingly humble, I do not hesitate in saying that I am the most alluring primal dom you will ever have the good fortune to meet. I delight in taking down my prey and ravishing them with my primal energy. Picture, if you will, a wolf and a deer. I am the wolf, and you are the deer. Now, imagine the same energy, but sexual. That is the energy I bring to my work, and to my play. That is the energy I would be honored to share with you, should we connect._

“Wolves and deer? What the fuck?” says Richard.

“It’s simple. He’s into torture. Tortured metaphors, that is,” says Gilfoyle.

“I just got an idea,” Richard says, “For how we can get Gavin off our case. What if… someone leaked this profile to the tech blogs?”

“But Gavin doesn’t have any photos of his face on here, so other than Jared’s word, there’s no way to prove it’s him,” says Dinesh.

“What if…” Richard says, “someone caught him in the act? And sent photos to the tech journalists?”

“That sounds like entrapment,” says Gilfoyle, “I’m in.”

“Gilfoyle! Richard! What are you suggesting?” Dinesh is shocked.

“Gilfoyle, can you figure out if we can find Gavin at a kink event or something?” asks Richard.

“I can try,” Gilfoyle says, “It might be hard though. People like him usually try to keep a low profile for this kind of thing."

“This all sounds very unethical,” calls Jared.

“My moral compass says ‘do what thou wilt,’ and right now I wilt to figure out some dirt on Gavin Belson,” says Gilfoyle.

❦ ❦ ❦

A few days later, Dinesh has completely fallen into a black hole of Fetlife voyeurism.

“Wow, Gilfoyle, have you read Gavin’s erotica? It’s really bad. I mean even for bad erotica, it’s bad. This one story is called _Cold Ice Cream and Hot Pussies,_ ” he says from the couch where he’s been spending most of his time laying around and browsing Fetlife on his laptop.

“Maybe that’s a turn-on if you’re out there chasing yeast infections.” Gilfoyle says, not looking up from his computer.

“This other one is about a tech CEO who has sex with his acupuncturist-slash-spiritual guru. I don’t even want to tell you what they did with an ear candle.”

“Are you telling me a tech CEO _isn’t_ a good writer? I’m shocked.”

“Oh my god… what’s blood play? Does it have something to do with blood boys?”

“I think it was a mistake to let you make an account on that site,” says Gilfoyle, finally turning around.

“Honestly, I still don’t really get this whole kink thing,” Dinesh says, sitting up, “Like, all these people just let other people whip them or whatever?”

“Kink really isn’t all that complex as a concept. Pretty much anything between consenting partners is acceptable. All you really need is a clear opt-in,” says Jared.

“That’s right Jared, I hear girls really like it when sex is framed like they’re signing up for an email marketing campaign.” says Gilfoyle. He pauses, spotting something interesting on Fetlife, “Oh shit. I think I found a way to get us in. Gavin just RSVP’d to a private play party that looks like it’s held by some other Silicon Valley elite.”

“A private party? Think you can get us an invite?” Richard asks.

“I can’t get _you_ an invite, no. I probably can’t even get myself an invite. But I know someone who can.” Gilfoyle says.

“Who? Do you have someone on the inside?”

“No. But I’ve got Tara.”

Richard is puzzled. “Tara? But she doesn’t even live here, and I assume she doesn’t know the host. How…”

“Simple. Single men are dead weight at these parties. Dick is abundant and of low value in this economy. But a hot girl, she can get in.”

“Interesting,” Jared muses, “let’s capture some of these insights.” He stands and goes to the whiteboard. “As our resident expert, maybe you can give us some more details, Gilfoyle. First up, how do we get in?”

Jared takes notes and draws a map on the whiteboard as Gilfoyle explains.

“Tara can get an invite through the time honored tradition of being hot on the internet. I’ll be able to go in as her plus-one, so that’ll be two of us with invites.”

“So can you and Tara just get in there and take some photos?” Richard asks.

“At this type of party, they’ll either collect the phones at the door, or if they’re feeling lenient and they already know you, they’ll make you put a sticker over the camera. So we can’t count on using our phones to record. These people are all high profile, and keeping things discreet is pretty important to them, as is keeping out people like us. So we’ve got our work cut out for us. I think we’re going to have to find another way to get the phones in,” says Gilfoyle.

“What if….you and Tara snuck in a third person who was carrying the phones?” suggests Richard.

Gilfoyle shrugs, “Could work.”

They look up the house on Zillow. It’s large, modern, and expensive.

“Wowww… do all kinky people live in such fancy houses?” Dinesh asks. “If I become kinky, can I get a house like that?”

“These are recent photos,” Gilfoyle says, “I bet this same set of security cameras is still in place. I know this brand. It’s wi-fi enabled. In theory, we should be able to disable them remotely, if we’re physically in the vicinity.”

“You just know how to do that?” Richard asks.

Gilfoyle looks slightly irritated that Richard’s questioning him. “Yeah, that brand’s encryption is trash. There are plenty of hacks for those floating around on the dark web. Some of which are there courtesy Dinesh’s black hat ex MI4.”

Dinesh rolls his eyes.

Gilfoyle continues, “After we disable the security cameras, I think this side door here looks like our best bet.”

“But won’t it be locked?” Richard says.

“Not necessarily,” Gilfoyle says, “The catering company will probably be going in and out through this door.”

“They cater these things…?” asks Richard.

“Yes, they cater these things. People are expending a lot of energy flogging and fucking each other and they’re gonna get hungry. What do you expect? That someone with a multi-million dollar home is going to order pizzas for their fetish party?” says Gilfoyle.

“So who’s going to be the one to bring in the phones?” Jared asks.

“I’ll go” says Dinesh.

Everyone turns to look at him.

“ _You’ll_ go?” Richard asks skeptically.

“Yeah. I think I have to be the third person. Gavin already knows you and Jared too well –”

“Knows Jared carnally.” Gilfoyle interjects.

Jared looks at him reproachfully.

Dinesh continues, “So it makes the most sense for me to be the third.”

“You’re saying you want to be the third for me and Tara?” Gilfoyle asks wryly.

“Stop it, Gilfoyle! You know I don’t mean it like that!”

“I have a hard time imagining that you would manage to conduct yourself well at a fetish party.” Gilfoyle says, “You seem like you’d come in your pants or start hyperventilating as soon as you saw a nipple.”

“I’ve _seen_ a woman’s nipple before, Gilfoyle.”

“I didn’t say anything about the nipple belonging to a woman.”

“I’ve been spending time on Fetlife! I understand how it works now! Please, Gilfoyle! I want to help out! Let me get in on the fun part of this caper! Pleeeease?”

“Well, maybe I’ll let your begging work on me. But just this once. Don’t expect to make a habit of it.” Gilfoyle says.

“So what do you wear to a fetish party, anyway?” Dinesh asks.

Gilfoyle shrugs, “Personally, a utilikilt. For you, a suit and tie is probably your best bet, dark colors, that sort of thing. But if you’re feeling daring, lingerie will always get you in the door.”

“So like an all black suit? Why do I feel like I’m going to be dressing like I’m going to a Satanic wedding?”

“The lefthand path takes many forms, Dinesh.”

A great idea pops into Dinesh’s head. “I’ll wear my suit _and_ my chain.”

“A different type of chain is going to be popular there, but you go ahead.” Gilfoyle hesitates, “If you want, I guess I do have some accessories you could borrow.”

Gilfoyle’s accessories turn out to be a shoulder harness (“I’d tell you to wear it, but I know you wouldn’t understand what you’d be signaling, and even I’m not that cruel. Don’t expect my kindness to last though.”), an excessive number of utilikilts in different styles which Dinesh declines, a leather arm cuff that looks suspiciously like it might date from Gilfoyle’s college LARPing days, and a black full head mask.

Dinesh grabs the mask and pulls it on over his head. It’s black and covers his head completely except for the mouth and eye holes. 

“Oh no…tell me you haven’t fucked while you were wearing thing” he says to Gilfoyle as a sudden thought strikes him.

“Okay” says Gilfoyle, “that’s what I’ll tell you.”

❦ ❦ ❦

A couple weeks later, Tara is at the incubator, and the whole group has gathered around the kitchen table, which has been cleared off for the special occasion. Jared unfurls a large blueprint that he’s managed to procure (“My friend Muriel used to work at the city hall development and planning office. The good folks there are very accommodating if you go through the right channels!”) that shows the layout of the house as well as the surrounding streets.

Jared lays out their supplies on the table which include two spare phones that they’ll use to record while they’re inside, one each for Gilfoyle and Dinesh. Jared had made the mistake of offering a third phone to Tara, who politely declined due to a lack of pockets in women’s fashion. (“Really? I’m wearing lingerie, exactly where do you expect me to put this phone? I’m not carrying a fucking purse at a fetish party.”)

The gang piles into the van. Dinesh and Gilfoyle have outfitted it as a mobile surveillance unit, complete with a full setup of networked laptops that they’ll use to hack the security cameras. They arrive at the location and park near the house, just close enough to get within wifi range, but not so close they’ll be conspicuous.

“Alright team. Are we all ready?” Jared asks, “Should put our hands in the center and do a ‘go team’?”

For some reason, no one likes this idea.

Gilfoyle and Tara head inside. The rest of the crew waits a bit, and then when they figure the other two have probably made it inside, Dinesh gets out of the van. From the blueprints, they’ve decided that the best way for him to get in is to head around the back and crawl under a set of bushes to get to the side door. Dinesh is carrying a duffle bag containing the phones as well as his suit and mask combo outfit that he’ll change into when he gets past the bushes.

Using the computers in the van, Richard runs the security camera exploit script. The plan is that Dinesh will text them once he’s in, and they’ll restart the cameras before anyone even notices they were down.

“Well, I guess all that’s left to do is wait. I brought a book for you in case you get bored, Richard.” Jared says, “A lot of my foster parents would leave me in cars for long periods of time, so I know firsthand how a book can really help!”

The van is stuffy and warm with the heat of the computers. Richard fidgets and looks nervously at his phone while he waits for the text. “Do you feel like this is taking a long time? Shouldn’t he be there by now?”

Suddenly there’s a scrabbling noise outside the van.

Richard yelps and clamps a hand over his mouth. “Jared, what is that? Can you see outside? Does someone know we’re in here?” he hisses.

Jared grabs a baseball bat that he apparently stashed in the van while no one was looking and leaps up to peer out the window. He throws open the door. “Dinesh, are you alright? Are you hurt?”

Dinesh is gasping and clutching his chest. “Gilfoyle was right. I can’t do it! I feel like I can’t breathe! I can’t go in there with all those freaks and pretend to be one of them! I don’t have this level of white person bullshit in me! I didn’t even make it in the door to see a nipple and I still can’t handle it!”

“Dinesh, I think you might be having a panic attack, so what I’m going to have you do is breathe with me as I count. Let’s go in for one, two, three…”

Jared looks over and notices that Richard also looks like he’s having a panic attack. “Oh no, Richard, not you too! Do you want to try breathing with me and Dinesh? Let’s go out for one, two…”

“Jared, I can’t let this happen! After all this planning! If we don’t have a third person in there, all this work will be for nothing! I have to go in there!” Richard declines to breathe with them.

“Richard, I really don’t think that’s wise. Gavin knows you. He’s almost certain to recognize you in there.”

“I have to do it.” Richard opens the duffle bag and pulls out the mask Dinesh had been planning on wearing. “I’ll wear this. He won’t even be able to tell it’s me.”

“Here, take my chain too!” Dinesh gasps, “For good luck.”

Richard takes it, hoping the fact that he would never wear a gold chain will make the disguise more effective.

❦ ❦ ❦

Richard crawls under the bushes behind the backyard, following the route they’d worked out earlier. It’s awkward dragging the duffle bag of clothes with him while crawling, but he does his best. After vaulting over the wall (using his one season’s worth of high school track skills), he changes into the suit, keeping as low to the ground as possible as he does so. After he’s got the shirt, jacket, slacks, and of course, the gold chain, in place, he reaches back into the bag and pulls out… _shit_. The tie. Well, there’s no way he’ll be able to get that on in the bushes in the dark. He stuffs it into his pocket, resolving to figure it out once he gets inside.

Emerging from the bushes, he does his best to smooth out his suit, and summon up some false confidence as he walks towards the caterers’ entrance. Richard reaches the door and tries the knob. Gilfoyle was right. It’s unlocked. Opening it slowly, he peeks inside, then slips in when he’s sure that no one’s going to notice. He hurries through the kitchen, then nearly collides with someone coming around the corner.

“Gilfoyle?” Richard gasps, “When did you shave? And where’s your utilikilt?”

The man who looks like Gilfoyle is wearing a crisp white shirt, slacks, and a pink bow tie. He’s also wearing a completely blank look on his beardless face.

“You must have me confused with someone else. I’m with the catering company. My name is Roman.”

Feeling like he’s seen a ghost, Richard mumbles something unintelligible and backs away, before turning and speed-walking out of the kitchen as fast as he can. Behind him, he hears not-Gilfoyle say, “I fucking hate catering orgies.”

Outside the kitchen, Richard pauses in the hallway. The place is tastefully decorated in that upscale mid-century modern style that everyone’s doing these days. At least, he assumes it is. The lights are low and it’s a little hard to see. He takes a quick look around for bathrooms, but not seeing any immediately, decides that adjusting his wardrobe in the hallway is his best bet. There’s no one around back here except the caterers. Fortunately there’s a large mirror right there, in front of a hallway table. He pulls the mask out of his pocket and over his head. It looks strange, but maybe in a good way? He decides not to think about it too much, or to think about whatever activities Gilfoyle’s gotten up to while he was wearing it. Next up is the tie.

Sighing, he pulls out his phone and googles “how to tie a tie.” Google, recognizing a familiar search string from this user, helpfully autocompletes his suggestion before he can finish typing it. Somehow, no matter how many times he’s had to google it, it never manages to stick in his brain, perhaps because it’s so infrequent that he has to wear a tie in the startup world. Once he finds a diagram, he props up his phone on the table and begins to struggle with the loops and folds. In his head, he imagines Gilfoyle making a joke about how he could probably find someone at this party to teach him some knots, but for a different purpose. The thought doesn’t make his task any easier and he sighs in frustration and starts over.

Behind him, he hears a toilet flush and water running. The bathroom must be back there behind one of the closed doors. The door opens and he hears someone emerge. He doesn’t look up from his task until a familiar voice makes his blood run cold.

“May I be of assistance?”

It’s Gavin Belson.

Richard freezes and makes a stammering sound. Apparently taking it as a yes, Gavin steps up close behind him and plucks the silk tie out of Richard’s shaking hands.

Gavin’s cologne smells of incense and old money, and the smell envelops Richard in a cloud as he stands between Gavin’s arms. His hands are deft and light as he quickly works through the motions of the knot.

“First time at one of these parties?”

“Um, yes. Uh, how did you guess?”

“I’ve just got an instinct for these things. I’ve been going to these parties for quite some time.”

It’s only the two of them in the hallway. There’s a pause, and Richard realizes that Gavin is done with the tie, but he’s remained standing with his arms around Richard, not quite making physical contact. It’s oddly intimate, and Richard realizes with a rush of blood to his face that he’s grateful for the mask to cover, that his cock has gotten half-hard from Gavin’s attention. Finally, after a beat that’s slightly too long, Gavin pulls away and Richard turns to face him, nervously hoping that he doesn’t look down.

“I’m Gavin. And you are?”

Richard, who hasn’t thought this far ahead, and is terrible at coming up with lies on the spot, especially in his flustered state, nearly blurts out the first name that pops into his head, which is unfortunately, _Bitchard_. But he catches himself, just barely, and what comes out is, “Bihhh…. Brian.”

“Well Brian, it’s very nice to meet you. That’s a very charming gold chain you have there.”

Richard gulps, “Th-thank you. It’s nice to meet you too.”

“I’m heading back to the party. Maybe I’ll see you in there.” Gavin winks – _winks!_ – as he departs, leaving behind a stunned Richard.

Richard starts breathing hard, leaning back and bracing himself against the hallway table. What the fuck was that? What just happened? Why was he getting hard over Gavin Belson of all people? It’s just a physical reaction, he tries to tell himself, it doesn’t mean anything. Just as he’s starting to compose himself, he sees Gilfoyle and Tara come down the hallway. When they get close, he nearly starts hyperventilating again when he sees that Tara is wearing only a strappy lingerie set under a long open robe. Richard looks away awkwardly.

“Hang on… you’re not Dinesh. Richard, is that you under that mask? I almost didn’t recognize you with that chain on.” Gilfoyle says.

“Thank god you guys are here. This party is stressful already.” Richard says, adjusting his collar. “Dinesh had a panic attack, so I came instead.”

Gilfoyle looks him up and down, his eyes finally landing on the double Windsor knot, “Did Jared tie that for you?”

“What? You don’t think I can tie my own tie?”

“I know you can’t.”

“Well, for your information, no he did not.”

Gilfoyle crosses his arms. “So who did?”

Richard, who’d done his best to weasel out of answering, finally gives in looks around before coughing out, “um, Gavin did.”

“ _Gavin_ did? Did he know it was you?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Look, I told him my name was Brian, so just call me that for the rest of the night, okay?”

Gilfoyle and Tara exchange a wary look.

“I’m not surprised Dinesh chickened out,” Gilfoyle says, appraising Richard with his arms crossed. “I never thought he’d make it in, and I was right. I just figured Jared would be the backup. At least he knows how to conduct himself at this type of event. But I guess we’ll work with what we have.”

Trying to change the subject, Richard asks, “So how’s it been going in here? Did you have any trouble getting in? Have you gotten any pictures of Gavin yet?”

“They didn’t seem to like my utilikilt very much but fortunately Tara’s outfit seemed to make up for it. As for Gavin, it’s been tricky. He’s mostly been staying on the outskirts, chatting. He hasn’t gone near any of the play areas or near anyone who looks especially incriminating yet.”

Tara adds, “We thought he might need a little motivation to go play or something, so I tried flirting with him, and then Gilfoyle did, but neither of us had any luck.”

“Wait, Gilfoyle, _you_ flirted? How does that even… look, nevermind, let’s try and figure out a strategy here.”

“Well, if neither of us had any luck getting him in there, I think that might leave you.” Gilfoyle says.

Richard starts stammering in response to this idea, but luckily he’s interrupted by two of the caterers leaving the kitchen. As Roman passes by Gilfoyle, the two stare each other down.

“I don’t like that guy,” Gilfoyle says after he’s out of earshot. “He’s got a real weird vibe.”

“I don’t know, he’s kinda cute,” says Tara.

❦ ❦ ❦

Back in the van, now that Dinesh has recovered from his panic attack, he’s also recovered his interest in the party.

“Man, I kind of wish I was in there now, instead of stuck here in a van, no offense Jared.”

“Oh, none taken.” Jared says pleasantly, looking up from his book.

“What do you think is going on in there?” Dinesh says, peering through a pair of binoculars. He can’t really see anything inside the house from where they’re parked, but he likes the feeling of being a spy. “Hey, you fuck, right? Do you actually know what that kind of party is like?”

“Well, not to be too crude, but people usually imagine these parties to be a lot sexier than they actually are. They tend to attract a crowd of paunchy older men in management, and not to body shame, but that’s not usually what many people find conventionally attractive. You really aren’t missing out on much, Dinesh. If it helps, you can picture that party being full of a bunch of Jack Barkers.”

“Thank you for that mental image, Jared. I feel like I might vomit, but I think it might actually be helping.”

❦ ❦ ❦

Richard, Tara and Gilfoyle walk towards the main part of the house.

“Alright, listen up Richard, here’s what you need to know,” says Gilfoyle. “There are three main rooms for public play, which looks like it’s mostly bondage and impact here tonight. The bedrooms are open for people to use for whatever, so people tend to go there for things that require a little more privacy. Sometimes they leave the door open, which means it’s an open invitation for voyeurs who, if they’re luck, occasionally get to turn into participants.”

Richard tries to ignore the feeling that he’s walked into a situation that’s way above his sexual pay-grade. He tries to remind himself that he’s had sex before, and even experimented with flogging that one time with Jared… so this is just those two things together… in public… with strangers instead of Jared. Richard squashes this train of thought as he realizes it’s making it worse instead of better.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb and assume that you’re not going to be playing with anyone tonight.” Gilfoyle says.

“…playing? What, football? I’ve never been much of a sports guy myself.” Richard hazards a joke, earning him a flat stare from Gilfoyle.

“Playing as in kink, playing as in sex. It’s okay, you’re not going to stand out if you’re not playing. It’s fine to just watch. What you don’t want to be is the creepy single guy at this type of event, so just stick with me and Tara, and if someone talks to you, just be chill, okay?”

Richard tries and fails to get his head around how it’s not creepy to watch people have sex, but decides not to embarrass himself by asking for further clarification. “Uh… okay.”

They wander around the party for a bit, hanging towards the edges and trying not to look conspicuous. There are different rooms with different people doing different things. It all makes Richard feel just as awkward as that time at Folsom. In some ways it’s worse because there’s a higher chance of social interaction than there was at a huge outdoor festival. At least the catering’s pretty good.

Somehow Gavin has managed to disappear completely. Gilfoyle speculates that he might have gone into one of the closed rooms with someone, or worse yet, given up on the party and left early, “probably judged everyone here to be as inept at knots as you after he had to tie your tie.”

After a while, Tara whispers something in Gilfoyle’s ear and disappears. A little while later, seemingly prompted by some signal that was invisible to Ricard, Gilfoyle tells him he has to go find her. Richard hovers by the buffet table, eating canapés nervously. Across the room, he can see Gilfoyle and Tara talking with that caterer guy Roman. After talking for a bit, Gilfoyle leaves them and rejoins Richard.

“Hey, I think Tara and I are going to peel off for a bit with that guy Roman.”

“Why would you… ” Richard takes a moment to get it, “Ohhhh…wait, but I thought you didn’t like that guy.”

Gilfoyle shrugs. “Tara likes him. Plus, I talked to him about hard sci fi. He’s cool. We’ll see you later, Richard.”

Richard makes an awkward half-wave at Gilfoyle’s retreating back, trying not to be too grossed out at the images of the three of them that have popped into his head unprompted.

“It’s a shame when they go off without you, isn’t it, Brian?”

Richard jumps. Once again, Gavin’s managed to sneak up without him noticing.

“Um. We weren’t really… it’s not like that…”

“No need to explain, we’ve all been there.”

Richard clears his throat and shifts his feet around a bit, “So do you, uh, come here often?”

Gavin tries to hide a smile, “Let’s skip the small talk, Brian. I was about to take a walk around and see what’s going on tonight. Would you like to join me?”

Gavin as kink tour guide is somehow much less intimidating than Laurie was at Folsom. Richard finds himself even relaxing a bit in Gavin’s presence. Gavin makes it surprisingly easy, making light conversation about the evening, explaining what’s going on, introducing him to people, and asking about movies he’s seen and books he’s read. That last part gets a little tricky for Richard, since all he does is work all the time, but he manages to save himself by talking about the last book he can remember reading, _To Kill a Mockingbird_. Fortunately, Gavin avoids all work-related topics, so Richard doesn’t have to think up any lies about “Brian’s” job. Richard is surprised to realize he’s actually having a nice time at the party. He’s not even worried about being left on his own without Gilfoyle. Part of him feels like he should be annoyed by Gavin, but he’s somehow not at all. Gavin is surprisingly funny, and Richard even laughs at his jokes a few times, and not just out of awkwardness. Richard’s smiling more than usual. He wonders if Gavin’s noticed.

Gavin seems so at home in this environment. He somehow looks good here too, in the dim lights, wearing a slim tailored suit, with no tie, Richard notes in sly glances when he thinks Gavin isn’t looking. He carries himself with a confidence Richard wishes he could emulate.

“There’s dancing going on in this room. Join me.” Gavin says, grabbing Richard’s hands and swooping him into the dancing room, “I trust you won’t mind if I lead?” It’s phrased like a question but it’s nothing of the sort.

Before he knows it, Gavin’s hand is around his waist, as he pulls him in close in a – what are they doing? Is this a waltz? Richard has no idea, but it’s the only dance name he can think of. Gavin’s clearly taken dancing lessons at some point. Richard’s never done much dancing, either leading or following, so he’s clumsy. “Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it,” Gavin says reassuringly.

The music changes, to something slower and more seductive. Gavin looks down at Richard. He’s holding him firmly. There’s something about it that hits Richard different. Richard’s never had someone look down at him like this before, certainly not while dancing, not while being held like this. His body relaxes minutely, allowing himself to soften against Gavin as he follows his lead. Well, parts of him soften. His head jerks up involuntarily as he realizes with a rush of heat to his face that other parts of him have definitely hardened under Gavin’s attention, and judging by the way Gavin’s smiling, he’s noticed too. He slides his hand lower, cupping Richard’s ass and pulls him closer, grinding Richard’s boner against his hip. Richard dips his head as he struggles to contain a ragged breath that wants to escape. Richard hasn’t had sex with anyone, hell, he hasn’t touched anyone, for … how long has it been now? He stopped counting when it got depressing, but it’s been a long time, and the friction of Gavin’s body pushing against him is nearly sending him over the edge.

Richard tries to collect himself. This is Gavin, Gavin fucking Belson, who he’s dancing with, the man who’s screwed him over numerous times, and tried to ruin his company and his life in countless ways. There’s no reason his dick should be hard right now. He should be refocusing on why he’s here at all.

“You’re a very attractive man, Brian, even though I can’t see your face.” No one’s ever called Richard attractive before. “I won’t ask you to show me your face until you’re ready, but maybe there’s something else you’ll show me. Why don’t we slip into this bedroom over here.” Without giving Richard any time to think about the implications, he leads him into a nearby bedroom.

Gavin sits down in an armchair in the bedroom, still holding Richard by the hand. Richard stands in front of him, unsure. “You’re so beautiful. I think you might want to show me a little more of yourself, don’t you, Brian? Why don’t you show me your cock? We’re alone in here, no one else will see it.”

“Uh, you want to see..?”This is a good development, right? This could lead Gavin into doing something embarrassing. Surely that’s the only reason Richard feels his hand unbuckling his pants to free his hard cock.

“Has anyone ever told you what a beautiful cock you have, Brian?” Gavin looks hungry. Richard isn’t used to people looking hungry when they look at him.

“It’s not - it’s not beaut - I mean, no, no one’s ever said that to me.” Richard is surprised by how flattered he’s feeling.

Gavin reaches forward and pulls Richard’s pants down so they’re around his thighs. Richards lets him. Somehow it feels good to keep going along with Gavin.

“Lovely,” Gavin says. “Now Brian, I want you to get down on your knees here. No, leave the pants where they are.”

Richard sinks down onto his knees, cock poking out the fabric of his shirt. His body is buzzing with the idea of what he thinks Gavin’s about to ask him to do.

Gavin pauses for a moment, gazing at him. Richard shifts nervously under his gaze, glad for the mask. Gavin says nothing, continuing to watch Richard kneeling there.

“Well? Um? What now?” Richard finally asks.

“What do you think should happen now?”

“I thought… I thought that you were going to ask me to do something else?”

“Is there something you’d like to do to me now, Brian?”

Richard makes a nervous jerk of his head, caught between shaking it and nodding.

“I’m right here, Brian. What do you want?”

The words freeze in Richard’s throat, so he tentatively lays a hand on Gavin’s knee instead. Gavin seems to be holding his breath. After a beat, he says “Keep going.”

Richard swallows hard, and gathers his courage to reach out and fumble with Gavin’s belt.

Suddenly, Gavin lunges forward and grabs him by the collar. Richard lets out a yelp of alarm. “Christ, Richard, you were really going to go through with it, it weren’t you?” Gavin stands, dragging Richard to his feet as he coughs, unable to get any words out. Richard’s pants are still around his thighs, and he stumbles, nearly falling, only to be held upright by Gavin’s icy grip on his shirt. Gavin pulls the mask off over his head, then swings Richard around and shoves him against the wall.

“How – how long did you know?” Richard manages to get out.

“Richard, please. You really think I didn’t know from the start?” Gavin’s face is very close to Richard’s. “You’re the only man in the entire Bay Area who’s that bad at tying a tie. I recognized you the second I saw you standing there in the hallway, googling it. That’s the second time I’ve had to do it for you, don’t you remember? You might be good at algorithms, but you’re not that smart about other things, Richard Hendricks.”

“Uhh okay… can you let me go now, Gavin? Can I at least pull my pants up?”

“Not yet, Richard. What was your plan here? As flattering as it is to think that you came here with thesole intention of giving me a blowjob, I find that pretty hard to believe. Give me your phone, Hendricks, and any other cameras you’ve got hidden on you.” He can see from Richard’s face that he’s hit the nail on the head. “So your plan was to expose me to the tech blogs, wasn’t it?”

He starts patting down Richard’s chest, discovering the phone in his chest pocket. Looking down, he sees Richard’s cock still tenting out his dress shirt. “Christ, Hendricks, how are you still hard right now?” He finally lets go of Richard’s collar and steps back. “Empty your pockets for me.”

Richard takes the opportunity to finally pull up his pants. He sulkily removes the other phone from his pants pocket and hands it over.

“Now Richard, I want you to know that for someone in my position, going to these events is a liability, so I always cover my ass, literally and figuratively.” Gavin slips his hand into his chest pocket and pulls out his own phone, showing Richard that it’s been recording video the whole time. “You thought you’d air my dirty laundry in public? Well what’s to stop me from doing the same to you?”

“Okay, what do you want from me, Gavin?”

“I really had you eating out of the palm of my hand back there didn’t I? I know how easy it would be to get a blow job out of you right now, but here’s the thing, Hendricks: I could have anyone I want in the Valley, male or female. Anyone at all. You just proved it.” He smiles, “So of all the mouths out there, why would I want _yours_ around my cock? No, here’s what I’m going to do, Richard. I’m keeping this video. I won’t do anything with it for now, but I’m keeping it as insurance. Because I’m not convinced you didn’t find some other way to get photos of me here.” Suddenly something dawns on him, “Your lackey, what’s his name, Goldfoil? He was here! He was trying to flirt with me, and pretty ineptly, I’ll say. I knew I recognized him from somewhere.”

“I’ll make sure it all gets deleted. No one will ever see anything,” Richard swallows.

“Better make sure,” Gavin says, patting his pocket, “Because I’ll be keeping this.”

❦ ❦ ❦

The next morning, Dinesh and Gilfoyle are back in the same neighborhood, crouched around a storm drain, trying not to look too suspicious. Dinesh holds a flashlight as Gilfoyle peers in, poking around with a stick.

“Yeah, I’m not seeing anything in here. Is Richard positive this is the place where he accidentally dropped the phones?” Gilfoyle says.

“That’s what he said… either they’re down there or they’re out in the Pacific ocean by now. Hey, why don’t we see if their GPS is still pinging the Pied Piper network?”

“Good call.”

They head back to the van to work from the laptops there.

“That’s weird… the GPS shows them in a totally different location.” Gilfoyle says.

“So maybe someone found the phones and took them somewhere?”

“Maybe. It’s in a nice neighborhood too. Let’s see who lives there.”

“Hang on, is that…” Dinesh starts.

“Gavin Belson’s house?” Gilfoyle finishes.

They look at each other.

“Does this seem weird to you?” Gilfoyle asks, “What are the odds that Gavin would be the one to find the phones?”

“Unless… is there a chance Richard wasn’t telling us the truth?”

“Now that I think about it, when he was telling us about dropping the phones, he did have that real squirrelly look he gets sometimes.”

“He also got a real weird look when we told him we were coming here to find them.”

They think about it for a bit.

“You don’t think…” Dinesh starts.

“No…”

They give each other the look that means they’re thinking the same thing.

“Richard totally sucked Gavin’s dick.”

“He totally did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow the whole concept for this fic spiraled of a very simple idea, which was a to write a repeat of the tie-tying scene from the arbitration episode. As for how I ended up with this whole mess, your guess is as good as mine. 
> 
> Once I got the idea to put Roman from Party Down into this fic, it was so funny to me, I just had to write him in. If you aren’t familiar with the show, I highly suggest checking it out. Roman and Gilfoyle are of course both played by Martin Starr. If you clicked on this fic hoping for more implied Martin Starr self-cest than you got, just know that in the middle of writing this fic, I got completely sidetracked and ended up writing another one that explores more of what Gilfoyle and Roman would be like if they hung out together, so that one will be coming soon-ish too. 
> 
> My apologies to Tara for giving her like two lines in this, but in my defense I need about 6 seasons worth of character development before I can write convincing dialogue for anyone.
> 
> I know that people don't always like to engage with uh, riskier material on here, so I'm just gonnna throw this out there: I appreciate it kudos/comments TWICE as much on this kind of fic as I do for one of my more normal ones. Even anon kudos make my heart swell with joy.


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